


Standstill

by notearchiver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: rarepair_shorts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notearchiver/pseuds/notearchiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time doesn't stop after the Astronomy Tower, only speeds up to the point of a standstill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standstill

**Author's Note:**

> Written for rarepair_shorts 2012 summer wishlist for deathlydragon.
> 
>  **Author:** notearchiver  
>  **Title:** Standstill  
>  **Pairing:** Draco/Severus  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Warning(s):** none

* * *

**1.**

Draco can hear yelling behind him, but he doesn't turn back, just runs deeper into the Forbidden Forest, hoping Severus will find him. He can't Apparate, and even if he could, he doubts he would be able to concentrate enough to arrive at the correct destination—not with adrenaline flowing through his veins and stuttering breaths rasping in his ears.

Severus told him to run, and the direction implicit in the command was hide, so he finds a hollow and crawls inside, holding his breath as Bellatrix runs past him, her mess of curls dancing with the wind.

He is so intent on staying silent that he doesn't notice Severus until the man is standing before him, wand pointed at his face. Draco flinches, expecting a rebuke for not paying proper attention to his surroundings, but Severus merely cocks his head and says "Come," stepping back to let Draco scramble out from his hiding place.

The second he is standing upright, Severus wraps his arms around him, and though he has grown, Draco is still shorter than the man, his head able to rest against his mentor's sharp, protruding collarbone.

That moment, with the forest quaking around him, Draco focuses on the syncopated rhythm created by his and Severus' hearts. He has never felt so safe.

**2.**

In that brief span of time that comes after the twirl and before the air-expelling squeeze of apparition, Draco realises that time didn't stop on the Astronomy Tower, only sped up to the point of a standstill.

**3.**

They appear in a dingy kitchen, and, as their feet touch the floor, Severus extricates himself from the embrace.

"We will be staying here for the foreseeable future. I suggest you settle in. Food is in the icebox, as I am sure you are famished after this evening's escapades." He sneers the last word.

Draco doesn't bother to correct the man, as he is not at all hungry, just stares as Severus conjures Death Eater robes and mask.

"Will I—"

"Let me correct myself," Severus interrupts coldly. "You will be staying here for the foreseeable future. I would be…grateful…for that. I doubt our Lord is feeling generous towards you at the moment."

By the time Draco nods, Severus has already Apparated.

**4.**

They fall into a routine; or rather Draco does, as Severus is often called away.

The house, for all its strange, Muggle amenities, is quite magical, and Draco spends the first few days exploring. He discovers what a Toaster is, and yelps when the water in the tub never comes out hot. But mostly he reads. There are walls upon walls of books; stacks litter the floors, and he finds a particularly Dark book in the rubbish bin. When Severus is at the cottage, Draco studies Potions, not because he always wants to, but because it seems to calm Severus, who is becoming more and more stressed as the days pass.

He notices the man's long fingers first, then the graceful way he walks, his cultured voice that turns rough like a Northerner's when he's upset. Draco notes the way Severus layers himself in clothes, wondering why he would hide such a physique, because Draco notices how the man's thin frame is covered in wiry muscle. He begins to wonder what the man would look like without all the clothes.

After all, Severus is no longer his professor.

**5.**

Things never change, until they do.

**6.**

Draco is startled awake by the thump of a body falling to the floor. Muttering "Lumos", he rolls the body on its back and finds himself staring at the face of Severus. Blood clothes his pale face, and a stream of red dribbles from the side of his mouth.

And there is so much blood—blood pooling on the floor and seeping from black robes and spattering books and coating his hands and staining his conscience.

In the midst of the panic and loathing that he can't do a fucking thing, Draco realises that Severus is a Potions Master, so of course there would be potions in the cottage. So when he leaves the man to rifle through cupboard after cupboard, he prays to every deity possible that Severus will just keep living. And when the night turns to morning and Severus is still alive, Draco thanks Merlin that the man brewed an apothecary in the cottage and that some of the spattered books are on Healing and that the man is just too much of a bastard to die.

**7.**

He never thanks him verbally, but Draco doesn't mind because Severus kisses him two weeks later.

Pansy was soft and wet, Theodore tasted of honey and milk chocolate, and Blaise was fiery and demanding. Severus is all hesitant edges and subtle lines that taste of dark mist and peaches.

When Severus begins to undress, Draco is ashamed of his body, so innocent and fragile next to the man's marred, scarred, alabaster skin. Somehow, somehow Severus seems to understand, because as he laves Draco's cock with his tongue, his hand traces runes for safety and courage on his stomach.

As he watches Severus prepare himself, Draco thinks the trust in the man's eyes is better than the tight feeling of _Severus_ around his cock, better than any thrust that gives him stars.

After that night, he still thinks that.

**8.**

Together, lying in a mess of arms and legs and cold, sharp sweetness, Severus retracts his arm from across Draco's chest, bringing it to rub his own face.

"I am not in the habit of fucking my students," he mumbles, words partially concealed by skilled fingers.

The blonde rolls on his side, his foot catching the other man's. "I think murdering your former employer is grounds for dismissal, Severus," he says softly. The words cut through the bitter, alive air.

Draco expects Severus to laugh darkly, expects Severus to smirk, expects Severus to ensnare his foot further.

He doesn't expect Severus to push his foot away, doesn't expect him to sit up, doesn't expect him to shrug on his discarded robe and leave the room.

Draco doesn't expect the room to taste so melancholic without Severus.

**9.**

He waits until the front door has creaked shut before he slides out of the breaking bed and pads to the window, bare feet leaving marks on the streaked floor. Peering past the curtain, he scans the scenery. It is raining, wetting the unforgiving ground. Then Draco sees him.

Severus stands a good distance away from the door. His robe is open and flapping in the same wind that once danced with Bella's curls, allowing drops of water to stream down his naked body. A cigarette is caressed in his right hand, his fingers holding it as delicately as they had curled around his prick mere minutes before.

Draco is about to go out to Severus, about to let the curtain slide into place, when the man outside abruptly grinds the cigarette out on the top of his pale, veined hand, visage twisted into a grimace. If Severus does make a sound, it is lost in the wind, but Draco imagines the hiss of the cigarette mixing with water and landing on skin would sound very much like it.

He lets the curtain fall and stares at the bed.

Maybe, he thinks as he wraps the sheets around his cold body, his aching soul.

Maybe ever after.

**10.**

He dreams of feathered kisses and hands gliding through his hair, of gasps and moans, of rain that makes keening noises and wind that can dance.

But mostly, mostly he dreams of _after_.


End file.
